“For the Lord takes delight in His people; He crowns the humble with victory”. (Psalm 149: 4)
I’ve been thinking a lot about pride and humility often the past several days, especially as I continue to take in current events around the globe and in our nation. It seems strife and evil are prevailing in countries far away and close to home, too. Thinking or dwelling on what headlines are telling me is overwhelming, yet I don’t want to ignore the seriousness of any upheavals. So, although I am only one person, I find solace in praying for peace, asking God to intervene to protect the innocents, and raising up leaders of nations who are willing to lead in humility versus pride fed by egos and selfish ambition. Honestly, I think that’s a very tall order to hope for but I know all things are possible with God. But, writing about the woes of our world isn’t my focal point today. Setting that aside I want to visit a sweet memory belonging to my Grandma Jewell who often exemplified humility .
Imagine that you’re living on a small family farm during the depression years and waste–especially regarding food–was something as a homemaker you gave careful attention to avoiding. Tending your garden of vegetables, nurturing berry bushes you grew or foraging in nearby woods, you created jams, jellies, canned vegetables in a root cellar. Jars of mincemeat lined shelves waiting to layer between pie crusts. Maybe your family owned one or two cows for milking from which you churned your own butter from the luscious cream. You realized, however, that although pantry foods will help get you through another year feeding a growing family of 11 children, the cows may stop producing in harsh winter months, the barn too cold for them I’ve been told. Your source for butter has run out, causing you to find alternative spreads for morning toast or evening’s biscuits.
Dad told me years ago the family entertained a male guest one evening. He joined them for supper. I don’t remember what grandma served–probably chicken from one of the farm’s donors–vegetables from her pantry, potatoes from the root cellar and either homemade bread or biscuits. But she didn’t have any butter. She knew she had a huge bowl of pumpkin butter in the pantry, but she was too embarrassed to include it in the meal.
Polite dinner conversation filled her kitchen and as the evening progressed everyone began sharing memories and favorite things they liked. Lo and behold “Mr. Dinner Guest” declared “you know what I have missed for a LONG time?–pumpkin butter! Haven’t had it in years”. That’s all it took for a loving memory to push aside grandma’s fears and shame of not being able to offer her guest proper “butter”….dad said she stood up and in her well known sweet voice said “well, you just wait now, I’ll be right back”. She returned with her huge bowl of homemade pumpkin butter and set it smack dab in front of her house guest, beaming with joy as fearful pride faded from her spirit, now turned into a gesture of humility, giving way to delight this man’s tastebud memory!
I’m pretty sure the pumpkin she used to make the butter came from her own garden patch or maybe from a neighbor. It doesn’t really matter. Her ability to make the spread came from years of being frugal and creativity preparing meals for the family. The bounty she was able to collect from foraging, growing, and collecting were covered in prayers, too, that often lasted into nighttime hours when her family was fast asleep.
I’ve never made pumpkin butter but I think I’ll give it a try. The ingredients aren’t too difficult to gather. I won’t have to forage for them. I actually have pumpkin in my freezer that I cooked and froze last fall. When I get around to making a batch, I will imagine my grandmother making hers–did she still have her wood stove at the time of this story? Did she save the seeds from the fruit of her pumpkins and roast them? Something tells me she did. Because grandma didn’t waste anything that could feed her family…or an evening houseguest the Lord knew she needed for reassurance there’s no shame when the cows aren’t producing the milk you rely on for regular butter.



